


Tales of Love and Deductions

by Ludicrous



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sherlock Holmes Makes Deductions, The Science of Deduction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ludicrous/pseuds/Ludicrous





	1. A small shop on Narrow Street...

There was a small shop on Narrow Street. During the day, people passed by without stopping, but sometimes, at night, a few customers came in.

The shop attracted all kinds of customers, but they all had one thing in common : they needed something, so desperately that they went into the Science of Deduction, despite the rumors.

Nobody had ever seen Sherlock Holmes outside of his shop. Most of his customers never learnt his name - it was a precious thing to give, a name. People didn't know what he looked like, either. His face was usually cast in shadows when they met him. And they only met him once.

Sherlock Holmes had helped all kinds of people, and they gave him everything he needed in exchange : distraction. He lied to them when he asked for gold, or their finest wine. What Sherlock actually craved was the fun of a new customer to figure out.

Sherlock Holmes had given people ways to get love, money, power, and so much more. There was not a query he hadn't heard before.

Not until John Watson limped into his shop.


	2. The Boy Whose Monsters Were Not Under His Bed

During the day Sherlock usually left his shop unattended. Most days, he had no customer whatsoever. And Sherlock hated waiting. When he was not busy writing new symphonies that played in his head, it would take him five minutes to get bored.

Sherlock was writing his novel when the bell on the door chimed. Sherlock looked up in disbelief. It was only five in the afternoon, his usual customers were all at the pub drowning their sorrows. 

This was an unusual one.

Sherlock smiled and in one swift motion dropped his quill and jumped above a pile of papers to bolt through the door.

The new customer jumped back in surprise upon seeing this rather dramatic entrance. Granted, Sherlock had a nasty habit of bursting through this door in increasingly alarming ways. He had once appeared covered in blood and brandishing a harpoon. It had taken half an hour for the unconscious client to wake up.

"Great Sorcerer?" 

Sherlock scoffed at the title. It didn't matter how many times he repeated that deduction is a science - isn't that the name of his shop, it should be obvious. They will keep on believing Sherlock is some kind of supernatural being, brought to this earth to help them. How utterly laughable !

"My name is Henry, Henry Knight and I request your assistance." The boy's hand was trembling.

Sherlock didn't answer. If there was something he hated more than waiting, it was exchanging pleasantries about the weather. The client would start right at the root of the problem or he would be thrown out.

"My uncle wishes to take me hunting with him, but I am deeply afraid of dogs. They are big and they have these luminous eyes. Would you cure me of this fear, Sorcerer?"

Sherlock stopped turning around the boy, and walked away. This was not a puzzle worth solving. The boy was obviously afraid of dogs because of a traumatic incident in his youth. Talking about it didn't appeal to Sherlock in the slightest.

"Won't you help me face these hounds, Sorcerer?"

Sherlock stopped halfway out of the room. This was not a common word to use for a child. This was not common at all.

Sherlock turned around, his long coat swishing against his ankles. The boy was waiting. He didn't dare move, in case his Great Sorcerer would leave at the first misstep. 

"Would you repeat your last words." Sherlock's voice was flat. This was not a question.

"Sorcerer..." The boy looked around, licked his lips. He sounded like he was being tested.

Sherlock sighed. How utterly slow must it be to have such a boring mind ! If Sherlock didn't need distractions so often, he would stay away from people altogether, like his dear brother.  
Instead, he had to suffer through this miserable display of thought.

"Ah, yes !" The boy jumped up and down before noticing the look on Sherlock's face. "I mean, I remember now. I said 'won't you help... me face... th... these hounds, Sorcerer."

Sherlock let out another sigh before turning his full attention to the boy, who started fidgeting.

"Stop." Sherlock barely whispered, but the boy obeyed at once. "Do not speak nor think. I need silence."

Sherlock observed the worn-out sweater, the handkerchief in the boy's hand, the brand-new shoes and he smiled. The pieces were starting to fall into place, soon everything -

The door swung on its hinges. It echoed like thunder in the small space. Sherlock stopped pacing, opened his eyes.

"Who dares disturb -" Words left Sherlock's mouth.

On the treshold of the shop was standing a mystery.


End file.
